


Pray For Me

by call_it_a_miracle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelic Possession, Gen, I'm Bad At Summaries, M/M, Partial Mind Control, Post-Season/Series 13, Rowena saves the day, Slightly Destiel, Use Of Magical Egg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-16 06:49:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14806406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/call_it_a_miracle/pseuds/call_it_a_miracle
Summary: The Winchesters save Dean from Michael.





	Pray For Me

**Author's Note:**

> This took me more than a month to write but i was itching to publish something idk. Hope you guys like it.

The feeling of déja vu that strikes Sam as he takes in the scene before him leaves him in a state of numbness that allows him to keep going. 

They’re in an abandoned church in the outskirts of somewhere, Texas. The air is thick with dust and the slight scent of incense clinged to the old wood that covered pretty much the entire decaying structure. The remains of a Mother Mary porcelain figure sat on the stone altar covered by a yellowed cloth. A giant cross stood on the wall behind it with a single left arm being the only thing left of the Jesus figure that used to hang from it. Holes punched through the wood with time were the only reliable sources of light since the stained glass windows that still stood on the walls were too dirty to let much in. The old broken pews that took over most of the space when they first walked in were now pushed back haphazardly, leaving space for the front doors. 

“Sam?” 

Mary’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts. He looks up to her from his place in the pews.

“What is it? The trap’s in place?” he asks, willing his spine to uncurve itself. He tries to make eye contact with his mother, but the concern and fear in her eyes is too much for him to bear at the moment. 

“Yeah, we’re just waiting for Rowena to finish setting up her part” Mary says, taking a seat right next to her youngest son. 

Sam’s eyes are glued to the ground, his hands tightly clasped together over his lap. Every possible scenario that he can think of from that point forward plays in his head as he tries his best to school his face into an unreadable mask for Mary’s sake. He knows he can’t hide just how scared he feels as sweat keeps pooling in his temples and his heart stomps aggressively in his chest threatening to break his ribs and escape through his mouth. He feels nausea building up and he can only pray that he won’t throw up as soon as Rowena confirms they’re ready. 

Meanwhile Mary fixes her gaze on Jack who sat on the floor a couple feet over twirling a small flower he’d found outside between his fingers, occasionally stealing worried glances at Sam and Castiel. The angel hasn’t said much since everything went down. It took her and Bobby’s relentless questioning for him to tell them exactly what had happened. Mary would never forget the way his voice shook and how his red-rimmed eyes filled with tears that refused to spill as he told them about Dean’s deal with Michael. After that he abandoned all speech that wasn’t related to saving Dean. They would’ve tried to snap him out of it more if it wasn’t for the urgency to get Dean back and stop Michael from breaking their universe. 

At first, Mary had felt guilty for not being as torn as Sam and Castiel were. When Sam arrived back at the bunker, a wobbly Jack following behind him, his eyes were too swollen and red to make out much of an expression in his face. He gave her and Bobby a broken, tight-lipped smile before taking Jack to his room and locking himself up in his. The kid slept for two days straight, trying to get a grip on the last bits of grace he had left. Mary felt her motherly instincts ignite as she made sure to check on him every few hours, placing a glass of water on the nightstand by his bed for when the kid finally got the strength to wake up. Sam sulked in his room for half a day before storming out, immediately hitting the library on anything to do with angelic possession. Castiel had already started his research, though he repeatedly stated in sad looks and sharp shakes of his head that there was nothing he didn’t already know. Sam insisted on reading everything, though. He read and read until his eyes burned and he knew every single passage by heart. 

They all said the same. Either Michael leaves Dean willingly or Dean finds a way to cast him out. It was obvious that the archangel had found a way to cling to Dean, keeping him from grasping his own will to kick him out of the building. Castiel pointed out the two ways he knew of to lock celestial beings in their vessels. The first one was burning a sigil in the vessel’s skin that acted as a magical lock against the person’s own will. A physical disrupture of the sigil would break the boundaries and Dean would be able to immediately cast Michael out with just a thought. The second one was more complicated and less pleasant for the vessel. Only archangels could do it, which explained why they never really took on vessels unless it was absolutely necessary. The archangel would essentially find a way to break the human’s mind, cramming it up like a used paper and tossing it aside to place their own celestial mind as the main steering wheel. This would disarray the person’s thoughts, disorienting them enough to keep them from finding out about their current situation hence making it impossible for the archangel to be casted out. 

As much as it pained them to consider it, they knew Michael was most likely using the second lock. 

They set to work then, which brings them now to this abandoned church. It’s been three whole months and so far Michael hasn’t caused much tangible mayhem around them. Jack explained how he’d heard from angel radio that he sat in Heaven’s throne and used the angels as his personal servants. They were surprised to learn of Heaven’s deplorable state, shooting glances at Castiel who looked so guilty and sad it physically hurt. Michael was just starting to build an army, even considering the idea of fathering a nephil or two when they finally finished building up their plan.

“I’m scared”

Sam’s voice was barely a whisper but Mary was able to catch it from where she sat. She turned to her son, giving him a reassuring smile. “Me too”

Rowena announced that she was ready. She placed the leftover ingredients in a corner and left the bronze bowl sitting in the middle of the altar next to the egg-shaped gadget Ketch gave them a while ago. Sam smiled slightly as she saw her take her place behind the altar and wondered if she’d chosen that spot on purpose. 

Before they started, Castiel insisted on scanning through every single sigil he’d previously drawn across every surface available for the last time. Some of them were a bit redundant, others weren’t completely necessary for the spell, but Castiel painted his design as a way to ensure his family’s safety. His eyes ran through every symbol, every dot and dash that sticked out from the dull browns of wood and dust and felt the invisible restrictions that hung in the atmosphere wrapping them in a protective cocoon of energies. With one last deep breath he nodded at Rowena. 

Their plan was simple. They’d summon Michael, trap him in a holy oil ring and keep him there with help of the sigils. Then Rowena would temporarily power him down allowing them to kick him out of Dean’s body with the Magical Egg. Jack’s grace isn’t fully recovered but he’d insisted on standing by just in case things went sideways and they needed to act quick. The kid was stubborn, definitely got that from Dean. Sam had insisted on keeping him at the bunker to protect Bobby and the other refugees but Jack wouldn’t have it. He misses Dean and just like everyone else, he wants him family complete and safe and happy. 

They all stood in their respective places a few feet away from the circle. Sam cleared his throat as he took out an old piece of paper. Castiel fidgeted with his angel blade as he heard Sam read the summoning spell. Everyone’s eyes remained glued to the center of the trap in the middle of the church. A gust of wind had the broken windows shaking and just as Sam uttered the last word a cloud of smoke took over the entire place. The high pitched sound that accompanied it had them covering their ears as the smoke dispersed and cleared out revealing a smug looking Michael. 

The smirk he sported looked so alien on Dean’s face. It made them feel sick, especially as he looked around the church as if he were contemplating a storm. Dust clouded their sight for a few seconds, the loud groan of thunder echoing threateningly in the background. 

“Well, well, well. Look what we have here” Even his voice was foreign. The usual deep rumble of Dean’s whiskey voice was muffled by a cocky tone that would fit better on a third tier politician. “The Winchesters and their pets. Lovely” 

He turned slowly in place, his chin pointing up high to the church’s barely-standing ceiling. He smiled, making eye contact with each and every one of them before extending his arms to the sides in a dramatic display. The lighting shifted and flickered as the thunder got louder at the same time as Michael exposed his wings in an extremely staged show of power. 

“Sam! Now!” Castiel calls out. 

The first drops of rain start to fall over them as Sam reaches under a cloth for the Magical Egg. With swift, efficient moves he activates the weapon, pointing it at Michael. The fire ring’s flames grow taller and a roar of pure energy threatens to knock them off their feet as a powerful blast strikes Michael in his borrowed chest. Sam swallows his concern as he sees the painful expression on his brother’s face. _’That’s not Dean’_ he keeps having to remind himself, just as he’s done these past few months whenever they got any information on Michael’s business. 

Michael’s mouth falls wide open as the bright light of blueish white grace drowns the room. The Egg vibrates in Sam’s hands as he feels the power transferring to its egg-shaped prison. His breathing grows heavier as he struggles to contain the container and just as he feels he’s about to pass out, it all stops. The room falls silent as all light seems to drain from it. All light except for Dean’s-

No, _Michael’s_ eyes. The fire ring flickers weakly as a powerful gust of wind extinguishes it allowing Michael to walk over it. 

“You fools” The archangel groans out. 

They all exchange worried glances. Castiel scans through the sigils on the walls and allows a drop of relief to wash through his worried eyes as he finds most of them still intact. They should be enough to keep Michael from killing them with a snap of his fingers. 

“Hey, asshole!” Sam calls out, getting his attention. “Come and get me you son of a bitch!”

“Oh, Samuel. I would love that” Michael says, turning to Sam but remaining in his spot by the middle of the church. “There’s nothing i would love more than to have Dean here watch as i crush your skull between his own two hands” 

The archangel’s smirk grew dangerously wide and keeping his chin up he gave a couple steps forward. The movement had Castiel raise his blade, ready to pounce in front of the younger brother in case Michael tried to make his words a reality. This caught Michael’s attention, though, and in the blink of an eye he had Castiel pinned to a wall. Jack attempted to make a move but he didn’t get too far as Michael swept him away like a dust particle to the pile of pews at the back. 

The loud crash emulated the sound of thunder, but Michael’s attention remained on Castiel.

“Cas!” Sam called out, holding an angel blade of his own as Mary ran to the nephil. Jack shook his head, standing up on his own. A drop of blood ran down his right temple but other than that he didn’t look gravely injured. 

Michael’s eyes glued themselves to Castiel’s. The usual vibrant green of Dean’s pupils had been dulled down by a film of darkness that had the angel’s stomach twist in sorrow. 

“But you, little angel” Michael continued his speech, keeping a firm grip on the lapels of Cas’ coat. “I need to get rid of you first” 

Castiel remained silent. Sam called out his name again but Michael’s grip on his gaze was too strong. He relaxed his face, hoping that would convey some sort of reassurance to his family. 

“Looks like no matter what universe it is, there’s always something wrong with you” Michael snarled, his face inches away from the angel’s. “It took me centuries of breaking you over and over again for you to become the heavenly soldier you were created to be” 

Mary, Sam and Jack remained stoic in the background. They each kept a strong grip on their angel blades even though they knew they wouldn’t do much damage to the archangel. Even with the sigils up and working, he was too strong for them. Instead they did the only thing they could do. They listened along with Castiel and Michael growled out words.

“You became my best torturer. That little trick you do with your grace, no one could do it as effectively as you. So empty, so broken, there was nothing left for you other than following orders. You submitted to me, to Heaven, and we won.

From then on it got so easy i almost got bored. But victory was ours and there was no way i would risk anything to lose it. And isn’t that something? Here, they failed to break you, they failed to contain you and look where it got them. All of this, it’s because of you. If you don’t break, then the rest of Heaven does. Does that sound fair to you?” 

Thunder broke again, this time closer to their location. The lighting shift hit Michael’s eyes revealing once again the death behind them. Castiel decided he’d had enough and with a surprising surge of power he managed to escape the archangel’s grip. He made his way to the altar but didn’t get too far as Michael grabbed him from behind and slammed him over the plain rock, smashing Rowena’s bowl to the ground and making the Mother Mary porcelain figure tumble sideways.

“Now, Castiel, i wasn’t done speaking” he chastised, gripping the angel’s shoulders tight. Castiel tried to kick and squirm out of his grip but soon he realized he was just wasting his energy. Michael’s undying smirk twitched in contentment. 

“This Dean fella seems to be very fond of you” Michael continued, leaning over Castiel and keeping his back from the rest of the gang. “He keeps screaming and begging me to leave you alone… and i bet you can hear him too” 

Castiel couldn’t help but swallow, tears prickling in the corner of his eyes because _he **can** hear Dean_. From the moment he left him alone at the bunker he could hear the man’s longing. He can’t hear coherent prayers, but he has been feeling the raw desperation in Dean for months on end. He’s endured a lot of torture in his very, very long life but nothing could compare to the pure agony of the past few months. 

“I bet he’s had something to do with this. There was a point when you where a little too curious about humans, but i made sure to shut that down before anything else could happen. Looks like i was right, as always...

Anyways, my last vessel, he was easy. I trapped him in an illusion with his dead wife for years and i got no complaints whatsoever” Michael gripped Castiel’s lapels again, pulling him off the altar to his feet. Their similar heights didn’t seem to matter as the angel’s legs buckled under him. “But not Dean. He keeps rejecting it. I can’t explain it, but i guess that’s a little something i have to endure for taking such a powerful, perfect vessel. And if you ask me, it’s completely worth it” 

Castiel’s eyes shifted around the room, everywhere but at Michael. It was too much for him, his thought process long lost. The mission pulled at him along with Dean’s longing, keeping him grounded but somehow his vessel wouldn’t cooperate. He looked through the broken stained glass windows at the storm raging outside, then back at the suspiciously dry church. The contrast was jarring, almost a perfect mirror to Castiel’s own struggle. He looked down and caught a glimpse of red. There, on the floor behind Mary and Jack, Sam and Rowena worked furiously over the bowl, dropping ingredients and rushing through measurements. 

The angel caught up, and with great effort he looked back at Michael. 

“You’re lying” Castiel’s voice was rough from misuse yet Michael seemed unaffected by it. 

“Excuse me?” 

“You’ve trapped Dean in his own mind. I haven’t been able to hear his prayers for a very long time” Castiel saw no need to lie. The fact that he’d called out Michael should be enough for him to try and defend his pride. 

Sure enough, the archangel’s smirk twitched for the hundredth time and with a few rough pulls he had the angel standing straight right in front of him. “If i’m such a liar, then you won’t mind working your little trick on Dean here, would you?” 

Castiel had to resist, once again, the overwhelming need to panic. Dean was still in there, which meant he would feel the pain of Castiel digging through his head. Dread and vile rose through his throat, a tear trembling on the edge of the angel’s eye. A dirty glint flared through Michael’s eyes and with one last deep breath the angel rose his hands to the archangel’s ( _and Dean’s_ ) temples. 

“I’m sorry, Dean” Castiel said, his voice full of pain and regret as he sends a wave of flaming grace through the shared body. The angel’s mind was suddenly flooded with incoherent screams as he digged in. Amazingly enough, he was able to surpass Dean. It was hard, he’d spent months longing to hear the hunter’s voice again but at the same time he doesn’t want him to suffer more than he already has. He manages to penetrate Michael’s grace and his mind is filled with images of pure destruction and chaos. 

Castiel gritted his teeth and with all the strength he had left he managed to scream out. “Rowena, now!” 

Michael pushed forward then, rejecting Castiel’s grace. With all the willpower he had left, the angel latched on to Dean once again, trying as best as he could to ignore his screams and just engulf him in his own grace as he’d done when he pulled the man from Hell. 

A sharp wave of raw energy broke through the connection as the storm from outside finally broke through the church. Freezing cold droplets of water rushed in like a flock of doves, gusts of wind picking up dust in their wake. Something threatened to rip the angel apart, starting from deep in his chest and ending right through Dean’s. His grip on the human was tight, too tight, and as desperately as Michael attempted to break it it remained firm. 

“NO!” Michael yelled out, desperately clinging to whatever he could find. His grace flailed desperately and finally caught grip on Castiel’s. The angel gritted his teeth as he held onto Dean. “YOU CAN’T DO THIS” 

Another pull left Castiel gasping, praying for strength. Michael’s claws digged into Castiel’s tattered grace, willing him to let go but the angel’s grip on Dean’s soul was too strong. The claim he’d laid on it while building it up after being torn apart in Hell was like super glue and there was nothing Michael could do against it. 

Rowena’s voice was drowned out by the storm crashing into the church and with one last pull it was done. 

Michael’s scream broke through the atmosphere as bright light drowned the room. Castiel watched intently as the intruding grace released its grip on Dean’s soul completely. A soft sigh of relief left the angel as he caught sight of the human’s soul again. It’s beautiful bright light filled Castiel with warmth as the dam broke and tears fell freely from his eyes. 

Dean’s body went limp against Castiel for a few moments as the hunter struggled to process what had just happened. He blinked a couple times, wiggling his fingers and toes to make sure that _yes, he’s back in charge_. The smell of fresh ozone danced in his nostrils as he took in his surroundings. Once he was truly sure he was safe he allowed his hands to wrap themselves around Castiel. 

His memories are fuzzy at best. The last thing he remembers with clarity is killing Lucier. After that it’s just a muffled mess of desperate fighting in his head. He shakes himself, breathing in deeply and feeling his own body belonging back to him. 

“Cas” his voice is quiet and rough but he doesn’t care. He fists the angel’s coat and presses close to him, enjoying the first moment of peace he’s had in what feels like an eternity. 

“Dean” Castiel’s voice is just as quiet, the trembling from his body coursing through Dean’s. The hunter doesn’t even realize he’s crying until the angel forces him to make eye contact. “Are you hurt?” 

And isn’t that the golden question? Everything they fought for all those years ago meant nothing once Dean was forced to say yes to Michael. All they lost over and over again was obsolete and fate laughed at them as the story gave in because _they would always end up here_. His soul is hurt, tainted, and knowing that their fight was meaningless is the worst injury he’s had to endure. But as he looks into the angel’s eyes he realizes that yes, it happened, but they were still able to stop it. 

“I’ve been through worse” He hasn’t, but the watery smile that breaks through the angel’s red face is enough to light a spark in him. 

He feels Sam’s arms wrap around him and allows himself to relax. Soon enough Jack and Mary join the hug and Dean all but melts in his family’s arms. 

He’s hurt. They’re all hurt. But together they will rise again. After all, this was worst case scenario. What else could go wrong?

 **Meanwhile, a commotion in The Cage startles Hell**.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi on Tumblr: @call-it-a-miracle


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